


The Decency To Remain Dead

by ch3rryvodk4



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post Reichenbach, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ch3rryvodk4/pseuds/ch3rryvodk4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three-hundred sixty-five and one-quarter days after The Fall is too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Decency To Remain Dead

_Sherlock, I'm sorry. I can't do this, not anymore. I just… Anything. I would have taken anything. A call, a text, a bloody harpoon in the mail would have kept me going. I told you once that I believed you, always have, and I'll never doubt you. I know you did it all… You did it to protect me. Or at least, that's what I keep telling myself. After they found Moriarty dead, after it ended like it did…_

_You were so clever, always ten steps ahead of the rest of us, but he was one step ahead of you and we lost to him. But not just because he threatened the life you had, but he won because despite his death, you jumped too. I lost you, Sherlock. He may have been talking to you when he said he'd burn the heart out of you, but you were my heart, and he burned you too. You had my heart Sherlock, from the second I killed that bloody cabbie, I knew I couldn't bear to lose the insane bastard who pushed me through the looking glass. Everything was so dull, so black and white, the rest of my life was nothing, just a barely beating heart waiting to flat line. Then you came along and suddenly my world was so bright and colourful that it hurt. Then you went and killed yourself, but didn't bother giving me my heart back before you did it. You fell and it shattered on the pavement._

_If you were still alive, you'd tell me how weak I am, you'd be angry and disappointed, but you're not alive, and that's the problem. I lost my Wonderland, and London's back to being grey. I think it's mourning. Over a man they didn't give enough of a chance, the brilliance lost but never loved. I loved you, Sherlock. I just hope that before you died, you realised that. I like to tell myself that you might've loved me, too, if only sentimentality weren't so… Common. I know that 'caring is not and advantage' and it's true, I was so stupid when it came to you - but I was stupid, anyway, wasn't I? - and maybe if I hadn't been so bloody infatuated I could've seen it; stopped you from doing what you did._

_I couldn't save you, Sherlock, and I'm sorry. But with you gone, there's no one to save me, either._

_If there's such a thing as Heaven, I expect we'll be having words very soon._

_-John Watson_

\---

It's only three months after The Fall that Mycroft calls Sherlock, saying John has been slipping. Sherlock shrugs it off and tells Mycroft not to bother him and asks for the next strand of Moriarty's web that needs dismantling. 

\---

Five months after The Fall, Mycroft does something he's never done before and begs Sherlock to come home, stop this, Moriarty's connections can be taken care of by Mycroft's men, that the biggest threats to John's life have been dealt with, only leaving John himself to be hazardous. John is volatile, unpredictable, cracking, Mycroft says. Sherlock says he has a flight to catch and hangs up.

\---

Six months after The Fall, Sherlock downs too many painkillers, trying to suppress the aching feeling in his chest that has been there since he left John. He lives, but the pain is terrible. His pain demands to be felt, and he nearly turns to drugs to let go. But he's almost done. He'll have John back soon, he tells himself. Soon.

\---

Eight months after The Fall, Mycroft reports that John has lost his job, been diagnosed with chronic depression, and Mrs Hudson is only letting him stay in 221B until she gets new tenants; John is no longer able to pay rent. Sherlock nearly begs Mycroft to watch over him, for just a short while longer. Once again, Mycroft pleads with Sherlock to come home before it's too late. Sherlock refuses to think about 'too late' as a possibility.

\---

Three-hundred sixty-five and one-quarter days after The Fall, Sherlock misses a call. His phone has been abandoned in a rubbish bin in Berlin. He's on his way back to London to surprise John.

\---

Three-hundred sixty-six and one-quarter days after The Fall, Sherlock breaks into 221B to kiss John and tell him everything he should have said before. He finds the note resting beneath the skull he talked to before John came along.

\---

Three-hundred sixty-seven and one-quarter days after The Fall, Sherlock buries John Watson. He chooses the plot beside his own fake grave. He does not cry. Not out loud.

\---

Three-hundred sixty-eight and one-quarter days after The Fall, Sherlock Holmes, the real one, is buried beside John Watson. London mourns; the noise of traffic is just a little quieter, the rain waters the fresh flowers planted at the pair of matching headstones, and in the endless grey, there is no colour. The world has lost its only consulting detective, and his wonderful army doctor.


End file.
